Without a Goodbye
by forgetablelove
Summary: Hermione, though unnamed, is reflecting on her choices about a certain silvereyed man.


She could hardly remember when it all started, how it all started. She supposed it was all to try to find a way to cope in the new way of life she was being forced into at the time. She was thirsting for something new, something original, while he was just thirsting for something real. Neither of them had planned it, nor really wanted it at first. It had been slow and, honestly, it had been forced at first. Short rendezvous in the hallways of the castle, meetings in Hogsmeade, nights in the dungeons… all of it seemed so long ago, so far away from her.

She felt so detached from that past. From that girl.

He didn't seem like the boy he used to be either. He seemed like a man now. She saw him for who he was, for what he was, even then. He was hers, this brilliant, gorgeous boy with silver eyes and white blonde hair. His mood swings could range from almost loving and gentle to hatred and pure lust, but she accepted that part of him. Every time she saw him she gauged his mood, and before too long, she could tell his mood just by hearing him speak less than a sentence. She began to know his body just as well, and she adored his body more than she knew she would.

And when he left, without a goodbye, she felt her heart break, but she didn't say a word. She couldn't go in search of him, so she kept it all to herself as she slowly tried to mend her heart again.

When he returned to her one night, she was surprised. He gently pulled her close, in the comfort and pseudo-safety of the empty room, and held her. He was hardly gentle with her before then, and that's what she had wanted then. He taught her lust, passion, and fiery when it all started, and now all she wanted was love from him. That night hadn't been their first night of intimacy, but she thought it would be their last. She begged to go with him when he told her he wasn't leaving her again. She begged and pleaded, but he firmly refused. He said it was too dangerous for her, but she begged to differ. No matter her argument, he wouldn't budge. She finally, in desperation, told her how she felt. He had stood there before her, his eyes wide, but soft. He looked as if he would refuse her again, his mouth – his beautiful mouth – in a straight, firm line, surprised her yet again. Gently, he pulled her towards him, dipping his head to kiss her on the mouth.

He then pulled away and let go of her, leaving her wanting more, and disappeared without a goodbye. For the second time without a goodbye.

This time was different, however, because she expected him back and every night, when she laid down to sleep, she looked out her window for his shadow. She prayed for his return, and she continue to wait for him.

Her friends saw no difference in her, and for that she was grateful. She wondered if there was any difference in her. He had been a part of her for so long now, she wasn't sure if one night, even if it was his return, would change anything. She watched as her friends paired off; everyone seemed to be getting together with someone else, but her. She secretly had her own already, but no one knew. All her friends saw was her keeping everyone romantically pushed away. She was their in friendship; she gave no hope for anything more to anyone. When she heard from her friends that the guys were telling the girls those three words, those three words that every girls' dreams were made of, she longed to hear them for herself, but no by any guy that was there but from the guy that was still missing. He hadn't returned after a year, and against her heart, she started to loose faith he would ever turn up.

But then he arrived, this time in the light of day, this time to save someone else. He won the favor of her friends that day, but no one seemed to expect her to run into his arms and hold him close as soon as she could. Her friends had looked on with disgust even those moments before they were telling him thank you. She knew, from the look on their faces, they would never accept her decision. His decision was to kiss her, passionately; as soon as he could detach on her enough to dip his head down to do so. She kissed him back, with all the love and passion in her heart. She felt as if she was coming home, but she knew it couldn't be this easy.

As soon as she left his side, her friends clamored to hers to tell her what an awful person he was and how unworthy of her he was. She shook her head, claiming they didn't know him, not like she did. They refused to accept her decision even months after she held strong. Finally, when she felt they had given her no other option, she chose her heart over her friends. Her heart, speaking through him, told her he did love her. He was in love with her and wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. Without a goodbye to her friends, she moved in with him. But not even that was easy. His family didn't approve of her, and threatened to disown him, but he was their only heir. When they vaguely and dangerously threatened her life, he fought back, threatening his own retaliation of not accepting his inheritance and changing his surname so the family line would stop for good with him. After months of arguments and threats, he won and they disapproved of her without a word as they left the couple in relative peace and the marriage took place.

She never regretted her decisions, but, years later, she wished she had been able to convince her friends of his sincerity and his love. He never left her side, nor did he betray her. The mark was still on his arm and he still had scars only visible on the inside and to her, but he never hurt her in such a way that way unforgivable. He never cheated on her, as her friends claimed he would; he never abused her, as her friends, too, claimed he would; he never broke her heart, after he returned for the second time.

She only spoke to her friends a few times a year, but she forced contact with them. When they needed her, she was there, and when worse came to worse, they were there for her and her love. They were there for each other when the vows were said, when the children were born. They never truly lost touch. But she allowed herself to enjoy the life she chose and everything – and everyone – that came with it.

Then, eleven years after moving in, ten years after the vows, and three beautiful children later, she received news that broke her heart. During his job, his dangerous job she had pleaded with him to leave, he had been killed. She was now alone – alone to raise three children and try to live the rest of her life out. He was gone… She never thought she'd have to accept that.

For the last time, he left her heartbroken without saying goodbye. 


End file.
